“I think you’re perfectly horrid!” And this exclamation seemed wrung from the depths of Patty’s soul.

A ringing laugh answered her—­a laugh so hearty and so full of absolute enjoyment that Patty listened in astonishment.

“Poor little Princess Poppycheek!  It’s a shame to tease her!  Was she maligned by a bad, horrid man that she doesn’t even know?  There, Little Girl, don’t cry!  I know perfectly well that stiff old schoolmarm isn’t you!  Now, will you tell me who you are, and what you really look like?”

Patty had to think quickly.  She had supposed that Cameron meant what he said, but after all he was fooling her.  And she had thought she fooled him!

“Which is me, then?” she said, in a small, low voice.

“None of ’ern!  You goosie!  To think you could fool me.  In the first place, I knew you wouldn’t send your own photograph; and when I saw those three charming specimens, in out-of-date clothes, I knew you had ransacked your album to find them.  However, I took the whole bunch down to Marie, and she vowed she had never laid eyes on one of them before.  So there, now!”

“Then we’re just back where we started from,” said Patty, cheerfully.

“Yes; but, if you’ll come to the musicale on Friday night, we can make great progress in a short time.”

“I told you I’d go, if you would persuade Marie to invite me.”

“Nonsense!  I believe she has invited you.  I believe you’re Miss Curtiss.  She has dark hair.”

“Why not that other singer, Miss Fairfield?”

“Oh, Marie says she’s a blonde.  The ‘raving beauty’ sort.  I detest that kind.  I know she’s vain.”

“Yes, she is.  I hate to speak against another girl, but I know that Patty Fairfield, and she is vain.”

“Well, never mind about Patty Fairfield She doesn’t interest me a bit.  But what about you?  Will you come to the party?  Oh, do-ee, do-ee,—­now,—­as my old Scotch nurse used to say.  Come to your waiting knight!”

Kit’s voice was very wheedlesome, and Patty was moved to encourage him a little.

“Do you know,—­I almost think—­that maybe—­possibly—­perhaps, I will go.”

“Really?  Oh, Poppycheek, I’m so glad!  I do want to see My Girl!”

“Your girl, indeed!”

“Yes; mine by right of discovery.”

“But you haven’t discovered me yet.”

“But I will,—­on Friday night.  You’ll truly come, won’t you?”

“Honest, I’ve never been where I wasn’t invited—­”

“But this is different——­”

“Yes,—­it is different——­”

“Oh, then you will come!  Goody, Goody!  I’m so glad!”

“Don’t break the telephone with your gladness!  Suppose I do come, how will you know me?  How will you know that it is I?”

“Oh, I’ll know!  ’I shall know it, I shall feel it, something subtle will reveal it, for a glory round thee hovers that will lighten up the gloom.’”